Captain of the Guard
by Mrs.JohnReese
Summary: From common soldier, to captain of the guard, Maethoriel never suspected that her ascension through the ranks of Oropher's legion would also elevate her in the eyes of his son. They were too different, the captain and her prince; but that would not halt either of them. Not when both had an iron will...a will that would either unite them or tear them apart. Thranduil/OC, pls R&R! :)
1. First Meetings

Tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear, the dark-haired elf maiden shifted slightly on her feet; the fabric of her warrior's garb catching on a nearby tree branch and causing her to turn back, her pale fingers descending to free herself from the minor obstruction before she quickly spun her attention back to the overgrown path at her feet. She had been assigned to this quadrant of the forest to await the arrival of the new King of the Woodland Realm. Having been left behind while the remainder of the Greenwood's forces marched with the race of Men upon Sauron; Maethoriel had accepted her place as a guardian of the borders with a heavy heart. Naturally, she had desired to accompany her people to what was in all likelihood the greatest battle of their time. But orders had been set. She was cast in with the lot that would remain behind; absent from the glories of war.

Absent from her chance at avenging her father's death.

Like so many of the King's guard, Maethoriel's father had died valiantly; struck down by orcs in his attempts at seeing his Lord to safety. The messenger who had returned, bearing these sad tidings had done his very best to convey the nobility of her father's last actions. But nothing could console Maethoriel in her grief at this loss…at its sudden finality. Noble or not, she was unable to deny the selfish part of her being that desired nothing more than to have him back. She _needed _him. She needed his calm reassurance. His guidance. His strength. But it was lost. Gone, never to return.

What else did she have, then, save for the promise of revenge?

Biting back a sigh of frustration, Maethoriel shook her head then; forcing her attention back to the winding path before her as she reminded herself why she was here. King Oropher, rest his soul, had deemed her fit as a member of his guard; but had not wanted to risk her life as yet in battle. While he claimed to have no doubt in her prowess with bow and blade; given her father's own assertions to that vein, the King felt she might better serve her people by guarding their homelands until she gained more experience in hand to hand combat. And so it was that she stood on this secluded path now, awaiting the arrival of the late King's son, Thranduil. In the wake of Orophir's own death fighting the masses of the enemy, word had been sent for the heir to the throne to return to his birthplace…and, unless her ears misled her, the arrival of just such a person was soon to occur.

Upon refixing her attentions, the elf maiden was rewarded with a now certain knowledge of the new King's arrival; and she hurried to render herself as alert as possible as the sound of hooves beating against soft earth drew ever nearer to her location. One last attempt at straightening her garb gave her just enough time to snap back into a respectable posture as the small party that had created such noise as to alert her to their arrival came into view; and the young elf found herself only narrowly avoiding a visible demonstration of her shock as her eyes landed upon the deceased King's heir.

Much had been said over time of Thranduil, though she had never once laid eyes upon him herself. But of his ethereal beauty, no words could have done him justice. Where his father had been almost of a brawnier nature, Thranduil was taller; strength conveyed not with vast expanse of muscle, but instead through the lithe contours of his frame and features. Pale blonde locks hung around his face and shoulders, the strands mimicking the movements of his neck as he observed the borders of his homeland with an air of distant appraisal; the silver crown upon his brow glinting in the faint morning light as it streamed in through the surrounding foliage. Truth be told, Maethoriel found herself all but rendered speechless as azure eyes fixed upon her own dark green ones from his position atop a stately white horse; and the new King's gaze succeeded in holding her own for just the briefest of moments before he turned his attention to the guard at his right.

What was said was so hushed that even Maethoriel's keen hearing could not detect it; but she soon gained insight into the matter at hand, for the guard that had been standing beside the new King's steed was advancing towards her in seconds, forcing her to revert her thoughts away from the new arrival and to his instructions as he spoke.

"See to it that we are not followed. When the King is settled in his halls, you will be summoned for further instruction."

"Of course" Maethoriel replied softly; noting the almost cold authority in the guard's tone as he turned on a heel and made towards Thranduil once again. A small part of her wondered at the character of this new King, if he meant to act so aloof that he would never address his subjects directly…but she soon forced that supposition to the side; air leaving her lungs in a rush as she was catapulted back to the present at the sound of an as yet unfamiliar tone.

"Mani naa essa en lle?"

The elf maiden spent a moment in awe at the honeyed texture of his voice; amazement flooding her at how _warm _it seemed, when compared to the actions of his guard. That sound, coupled with the intrigue in his eyes as he gazed upon her had quickly set her blood to racing; and it was with every facet of composure she could summon that she tilted her head up to gaze upon him, swallowing once before replying and praying that her voice did not betray her nerves.

"Maethoriel, my King."

"_Maethoriel_…" Thranduil allowed the elf maiden's name to linger on his tongue as one might a delicate treat consumed after a feast; his penetrating gaze once again falling to meet her timid one as he moved to pass her "Mae govannen."

Before Maethoriel could make any attempt at a reply, however; Thranduil had left her side, once again falling into the company of his guard, and remaining completely oblivious to the significant look that his companion leveled towards the young maiden before they both headed further down the path and to the King's halls. For Maethoriel, however, the look did not go unnoticed…and she found herself blinking slightly as one might when trying to shake their minds from the fog of sleep; her eyes once again falling to the path leading from the outside world into their forest home as she resumed her post.

"_Mae govannen, My King…_"

…

Mani naa essa en lle?-What is your name?

Mae govannen-Well met

**Hello there, my dears! And congratulations on surviving my first foray into what our dear Thranduil may have been like prior to how we see him in DOS! I've been going back and forth with myself over whether or not I should even dally in this particular period of Tolkien's universe, since I'm not 100% confident of the history here. But as time went on (and especially after seeing Lee Pace's performance) I was unable to resist at least **_**trying **_**to take a stab at it. And so, here we are!**

**That being said, I'm opening up the floor now to you guys! What did you think? Should I continue? Or is this not quite up your ally? Any and all opinions are welcome, of course! And I truly do look forward to hearing your thoughts! Thank you **_**very**_** much for taking the time out of you lives to give this little guy a shot! Hopefully you liked what you found!**

**Until next time?**

**MJR**


	2. Unexpected Offer

Ascending the steps that would lead her into the Elven King's halls, Maethoriel fought back equal parts of intrigue and apprehension; her hands trembling at her sides as she drew nearer the door. Ordinarily, of course, she would never have given sway to something as basal as what she was feeling now; as she prepared to approach her new King. But instinct, or something stronger told her that this, and all future encounters with Thranduil, Oropher's son, were the furthest thing from ordinary. Try though she might to avoid such thoughts, the young maiden could not help but wonder if a larger force was at work in her orders to stay behind and receive the young King…if there were not, perhaps, some part she might have to play in _his_ life to match the role he held in her own. She would not deny the strange sensation of being drawn to the seemingly distant man; his elusiveness and almost cold demeanor intriguing the inquisitive part of her being to no end. But of course it would not do to dwell on that now. Not when her duty required her to have her wits sharp in the presence of royalty.

_She could not afford such petty distractions…_

Snapping her thoughts back to the present just as she approached the carven doors leading to the vast expanse of the throne room; Maethoriel spared the two guards before her a cursory nod as they permitted her passage. In spite of how many times she had been inside the room itself, its grandeur and beauty never failed to amaze her; and she found herself taken aback once again as she stepped inside and the doors slid shut with a muted thud behind her.

Tree trunks formed pillars that supported the lofty ceiling; the smell of bark and leaves filling the air with an almost intoxicating aroma the deeper inside the room she walked. One lengthy breath was enough to set warm tingles coursing through her blood; and Maethoriel found herself unable to stop the smile that rose, unbidden to her lips as she inhaled the familiar scent. As a young girl she had been permitted to travel with her father on rare occasion, when King Oropher held audience with members of his guard; more so out of an effort to keep her quiet and under her absolute oath that she would be perfectly still and silent throughout…and she was stricken, in that moment, by the sudden return of such a warm memory; her nerves dimming slightly as she turned her gaze from the surrounding architecture, forcing her eyes away from the deep greens and browns of the leaves and towards the great throne to address her king. Something that she would have found incredibly less daunting, in that moment, had a new realization not dawned upon her.

The throne was empty.

Arching one brow, the elf maiden stepped forward cautiously, keen eyes scanning the shadows behind and to the side of the impressive structure for some hint of her King's presence; and wondering in the back of her mind whether this were some trick, to see what she would do when left, presumably alone, in his halls. Finding no indication of such a thing, however, she made to turn and head back towards the door; supposing that perhaps the guard had the timing of her summons incorrect…that the king had wanted her to arrive later in the day, rather than now. But much to her dismay, the guards that had resided _inside_ the doors as she entered so that she may be granted easy access to the halls beyond had disappeared.

She was alone…

Resigned to amusing herself in solitude until the King returned, Maethoriel began an aimless track of pacing around the spacious hall; trying in vain to redirect her thoughts to something other than Thranduil's impending arrival. Truthfully, she had not the slightest clue how to interact with him; their first meeting having gone so strangely. Teetering on the edge of seeming too timid to be a member of his Guard; and fearing the risk of inadvertently causing him offense, the young woman was at a loss over how she might present herself. A thought that, in all likelihood, may have consumed her for the entirety of the time she were to remain alone in the throne room; had she not stopped suddenly, her eyes diverted in an instant to a shimmering object that had been placed upon a small table to her left. Her interest piqued, she hastily closed the distance between herself and the object of such intrigue; a small gasp sneaking between parted lips as she recognized what rested before her.

_Oropher's ring…_

Forged from precious veins of silver, the band carried with it the unmistakable sheen of great wealth; glinting in the faint light that was illuminating the throne room, and reflecting upon its surface. Centered on the band and impossible to miss, even in the dimmest of lights, there was a rather sizeable grouping of stones that Maethoriel could not identify; their beauty rendering her innate curiosity greater than her fear of any repercussion as she reverently lifted the ring to eye level. Before now, she had only ever caught glimpses of it from afar, as it rested upon the King's finger…and truth be told, she was utterly unprepared for the awe that struck her when viewing the ring so close to her own person.

Tilting it this way and that in order to gain a better hope of seeing each jewel in all its glory; the elf woman marveled at the clear prisms of light that flashed before her eyes as each stone met the dim glow of the numerous candles in the hall. An array of colors beyond the muted emerald and diamond in the stones themselves cast faint glimmers across the surrounding walls and the skin of Maethoriel's face as she gazed, transfixed at such a kingly adornment; rendering her unaware of her surroundings and forcing her to remain oblivious to the muted footfalls of the man she had been called here to meet as she continued turning the ring this way and that. Content to continue examining the jewels, as she was, Maethoriel found herself startled by the sudden sound of the King's voice carrying across the room to her; causing her to jump and nearly drop the object of such admiration as she whirled to face the sound.

"I see you've found my father's ring."

"M-my King" Maethoriel stammered, cheeks flushing as she spun to place the ring carefully back upon its resting place before turning back with head bowed "I am sorry. I did not mean to pry."

"Do you like jewels, then?" Thranduil inquired; the faintest of smiles teasing the corners of his mouth for a moment before he was resuming his approach "I am told all women, regardless of race, are fond of them."

In lieu of a reply, the young elf woman settled for worrying her lower lip with her teeth; always watchful of the Elvenking's movements even as her mind whirred over how best to explain herself. She had no right to touch the jewel…no right to hope for the King's forgiveness after such an egregious transgression. She had far surpassed the boundaries that her station permitted. But yet, she could not detect even the smallest hints of anger in Thranduil's tone as he addressed her. In fact, he appeared ever so faintly amused, in contrast to the predicted outrage and indignation…and Maethoriel found herself quite unsure over what she was to do in the wake of this unexpected behavior. A fact that seemed to highly amuse the King, causing a laugh to break free as he stepped towards her.

"Do you fear punishment, Maethoriel? For your actions?"

"I do, my King" She replied; tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear with great care, and forcing herself to remain standing in place as Thranduil stepped still closer to her before he was resuming his interrogation.

"Why?"

This abrupt question puzzled the elf woman; for she had never once considered that he would opt for seeking her reasoning in favor of making her pay for touching his father's most treasured possession. She, a lowly elf of the guard, had no reason or privilege to do such a thing. Indeed, given that very fact, it seemed to her rather odd that he was not casting her from his halls this very moment; instead of persisting upon having an audience with her. And she soon found herself jumping in shock as she drew herself out of her reverie long enough to realize that he had forgone all sense of keeping his distance from her; now coming to stand directly before her such that, were she to take too deep a breath, she was certain they would touch.

"I over-stepped my bounds, my King" She replied then; doing her very best to steady her voice as she took a singular step backwards "A fact for which I am deeply sorry."

"Do not apologize" Thranduil said then; suddenly moving past her to look down upon his father's jewel with some degree of wonder himself as his voice took on a more distant air "You are not the only one drawn to pretty gems."

Watching him for a moment, Maethoriel was not blind to how he seemed to gaze upon the ring at his fingertips with equal measures of awe and something akin to lust. She could see clearly how his eyes had brightened upon sight of the precious gems before him; taking on a luster that she had yet to see in them before. It was as though the small trinket held more interest for him than any other, in that moment. And, truth be told, it frightened her to see such a small thing seemingly able to hold so much power over one so great and noble as the new King. She was not permitted much time to ponder over the implications of such a thing, however; for Thranduil was soon turning his attention back upon her as he spoke, his voice now changed from the distant wonder of before, to a more businesslike manner.

"My father told you to guard the border to our South. There you remained, to await my return?"

Stunned by the sudden change in course of their conversation, Maethoriel managed a crisp nod in response; swallowing stiffly and willing her voice to sound sure…confident, as she replied:

"Yes, my King."

"Did he give you further instruction?"

"No" Maethoriel replied; moving, albeit hesitantly, to trail after Thranduil as she noticed he had begun to walk towards the opposite side of the room "I was only told to remain at my post and await your return upon the arrival of the sentry who…"

The elf woman paused then; unsure of how to continue on without causing the King further pain upon mention of his father's recent death. She knew, of course, that the occurrence must be a constant presence in his already heavy-laden mind. But to presume how he would react to overt discussion of the topic would be folly. Perhaps it would be better to avoid mentioning it at all…

"Understood. How would you like a change of scenery?" The King pressed forward; evidence that he had understood where their conversation had almost travelled made clear in the minute tensing of his shoulders as he turned once more to fix his gaze upon the young elf woman who now held his attention. For her part, Maethoriel found shame and regret mingling in a faint flushing of her cheeks as her King watched her and awaited her reply…her desire to make amends for her near transgression showing in the now timid nature of her voice as she replied:

"A change of…I am afraid I do not follow, my King."

"I am leading an expedition into the Southern reaches of the forest. I would have the best of the guard with me in that venture."

Blinking, the elf woman did her best to comprehend yet another unexpected turn in her encounter with the Elvenking; her mind racing to keep up with each new turn of events. As much as she had expected him to be aloof and mysterious; nothing could have compared to his behavior towards her _now_…and she could not help but find her curiosity regarding his person growing ever stronger in spite of her numerous misgivings as she finally managed to respond to his assertion.

"A-and you wish me to accompany you?"

Noting the King's answering nod; Maethoriel felt a newfound excitement warring with her existing apprehension over what had just been proposed. The King barely even knew her. He had never seen her in battle of any sort; and she could not say with certainty what his opinion may be on her person given the strange nature of their only two encounters. Yet, here he was, requesting her presence on a scouting mission. Giving her a chance to prove her worth at his side; rather than sentencing her to anonymity at the borders of their lands, as his father had done. It was almost too perfect to be real.

"I have asked the others about you" Thranduil said then, breaking into the elf woman's thoughts as he turned his attention to adjusting one sleeve of his mahogany robes "They tell me you are quite the quick learner. That you have much you wish to prove."

Taken aback by the open admission of inquiries as to her nature, Maethoriel could only stand still for a moment; her green eyes widening slightly as she made mental note of yet another strange action to add to the growing list attributed to the Greenwood's new King. That he might wish to know more about his Guards was no surprise, of course; the importance of such knowledge made evident by how well any larger group of individuals functioned when their leader was aware of each person as an individual. But the thought of her King seeming so ready to believe the others' opinions regarding _her_ before ever seeing proof was another matter entirely...one that rendered her in a near state of shock until she once again felt the weight of the King's eyes upon her; forcing her to forgo her stunned silence for a falsely aloof reply.

"I simply wish to bring honor to my father by serving as he did."

"My father spoke very highly of him. And he saw much promise in _you_."

"His Majesty was very kind…" Maethoriel replied; not wanting to drag out the conversation on the late King any longer than they had already, her awareness of how talk of such things was affecting the man before her as he broke through her impending diversion.

"He did not say such things in kindness. He only spoke highly of those who deserved such praises."

Flinching at the sudden harshness in the King's tone, Maethoriel took a hesitant step backward then; noting with some degree of interest the unmistakable pain in Thranduil's eyes before attempting to make amends.

"Forgive me, my King. I did not mean to cause you offense."

After the apology, common-place as it was, had left her tongue, the elf woman spent a brief moment in quiet contemplation over whether or not the King intended to speak to her further; her eyes flicking from his seemingly tense frame, to the doors, and back to him again as she attempted to discern her next movement. As ever, his demeanor was incredibly difficult to discern in that moment; the tightness in his features conflicting with how his body was still positioned towards her. And Maethoriel found herself completely at a loss for what to do in response to such a thing; her teeth once again coming out to worry her lower lip as her mind raced to find a suitable answer. She knew, of course, that should she remain with him, unwelcome; she risked increasing his apparent unease. But were she to leave without permission, she stood an equally likely chance of only offending him further.

_Never before had she encountered someone so difficult to read…_

"There is nothing to forgive, Maethoriel" The King said then, breaking the fragile silence between them and once again stunning the elf maiden as he came to stand before the elf maiden once more; all trace of his previous unease forced away "Prepare to depart two days hence."

"Of course, my King" The dark haired woman replied; her voice belying her excitement even as she fought to control it in front of her Lord. A part of her feared that, should she demonstrate her eagerness, he would find some excuse for repealing his offer; especially given his propensity for volatile behavior. And so she settled for offering him a faint smile of her own as she observed his nod that indicated she had leave to depart; all but taking the distance between herself and the doors at a sprint until she heard the King's voice call out to her once again.

"Maethoriel?"

"Yes, my King?"

"Quel esta."

…

Quel esta-rest well

**Hello again, my lovelies! And happy Monday! I know this is another short chapter…but generally, I build up steam as I get further into the meat and potatoes of a story, if you will. So hopefully once I solidify what exactly I want to do with this, we might get a bit more per installment!**

**As always, I want to open the floor now, to your thoughts! Hopefully I didn't botch Thranduil too badly. What I was going for was a cross between a cold man dealing with the weight of the throne, and someone who still has a certain inherent zest for life that has yet to die out; as shown in his intrigue over Maethoriel (in this version, the only woman in the guard…so a rare gem, if you will). Hopefully I did that justice?**

**To the many of you who have read, favorited, followed, and reviewed…THANK YOU! I hope you like this chapter as much as the last! And I can't wait to hear your thoughts!**

**Until next time…**

**MJR**


	3. Fresh Beginnings

The two days following Maethoriel's audience with King Thranduil were nearly the longest and most dreadfully boring that the elf woman had ever faced. She did not dare be so bold as to seek an excuse for any further interaction with her King…not unless decisively summoned to do so. And so she found herself passing the agonizing time from his mention of her place in his company to their departure packing, unpacking, and in general flitting about as a bird might upon the first scents of spring.

Her father had always tried to instill in her the art of patience. A calm, refined demeanor even in the face of insurmountable excitement or fear. But the skilled warrior had been as yet unable to tame his daughter's innate ability to allow herself to become swept up in the idea of something…a fact that never ceased to amuse him as he would watch her pace, and simmer, and agonize over something until the foretold outcome was reached. Always, he would tease her that her constant worrying and contemplation would age her before her time in spite of her immortality. But that did not prevent her from carrying on as she always had; the uncanny way in which she resembled her mother in both personality and appearance never failing to serve as a source of comfort, if nothing else. Never a day went by in which Maethoriel's father did not spare at least a passing moment in regret over the loss of his wife during the birth of their only child. But he always abstained from pondering these feelings for long; taking solace in how eagerly his young charge had taken to clinging to his every word and action from the day of her birth. In how she had grown to be as skilled a swordsman and archer as he…

_Maethoriel knew that he had been secretly pleased when she asked him for permission to train…_

Shaking herself then, the young elf woman forced aside these errant thoughts of her father; determined to focus on her impending venture and not the ever present dull ache of sorrow that assaulted her heart when contemplating his loss. She missed her father tremendously; no amount of time passed since the dreaded day would mend that. But she knew in her heart and soul that he would want her to move on. That he would want her to be as involved in her life as before he had left it.

She could not let him down.

Closing the distance between herself and the small wardrobe in the corner of her chambers; Maethoriel spent one final moment perusing the sparse contents, most of which had been cleared out hours earlier in her first scouring of the place she called home. Truth be told, she did not have much that would serve her well on this journey; save for her blade, her bow, and the garb of Orophir's guard. But that did not stop her from retracing her steps in stubborn insistence; all but convinced she had forgotten something of great importance. Yet another of her traits that had always brought her father to instant laughter.

A smile graced her otherwise serene features as the young elf woman thought of how amused her father would be; were he to see her now. She truly did miss his ever present smile…his warm laughter, and the strength in his embrace. But she knew that his spirit was still watching over her; keeping her safe. Perhaps, it had even been he who had set her current predicament in motion. Determined, always, to have her reach her full potential among their kind; it would not have surprised her if he had spoken of her growing skill set to the late King even before his own passing. And Maethoriel was unable to prevent herself from wondering…

What _would_ her father, and even Oropher himself, have to say about the inevitable way their children's lives would now be woven together?

…

A few short hours later found Maethoriel walking through the darkened boughs of the Greenwood deep in thought; barely cognoscente of the elven warriors in her company. They had set out not long after the King had intended; heading for the Southern borders in orderly lines, each pair of eyes and ears alert for the whispers of danger that lurked there. Rumors had grown, over time, of a dark force now taking root in the edges of the forest; unanimous with that power that was surfacing in the rest of the world as a direct result of the Dark Lord's growing arm. And the young elf woman suspected that the final orders the sentry had given the new King involved nothing less than scouring every last inch of their borders to ensure that their people remained protected. A fact that she would have gladly focused the entirety of her energy upon; had she not been so diverted by their new King's behavior.

Perhaps the young woman should never have expected his direct acknowledgment of her presence upon his quest. He _was_ the King, after all; certainly not obligated to address each of his subjects in turn due to the nature of his standing. Surely, she knew he would have countless other things on his mind in light of their recent endeavor; notwithstanding the ever present sting of his father's departure from this world. But even that knowledge did not stop Maethoriel from feeling perhaps the slightest bit jilted as she had observed King Thranduil stride by her position without even sparing a glance.

He had requested her presence personally, had he not? Why then would he act as though she were not even there?

Content to remain in her somewhat sour disposition, the young woman soon found herself aware of a lithe figure catching up to her; irritation and intrigue hitting her in simultaneous waves as a smooth voice reached her ears.

"You look remarkably displeased for one blessed to be in the forest on such an occasion" He said; the sound of his voice causing Maethoriel's eyes to snap towards him immediately as he pressed forward "One might think you were better served within the walls of the palace than living amongst the guard."

Not entirely sure of how to interpret such a statement; the young elf woman spent a moment in stunned silence as the pair continued to follow the rest of their company South, her mind still struggling with being so suddenly pulled away from its musings as the man beside her spoke again, this time with barely concealed amusement in his voice.

"They call me Sidhion. That is, if you are in the mood to learn such things."

Unable to resist the small quirk of her eyebrow upon hearing him speak; Maethoriel permitted a small smile to grace her lips, more so as a way to soften her all too likely harsh demeanor than to attempt any true humor as she replied:

"Why would I not be?"

"Would that you had a mirror, my lady" Sidhion quipped; a laugh leaving him at the bewildered expression upon the elf woman's pale visage "For then you would understand my assertion."

A brief narrowing in the path they were traveling upon forced the pair into silence for just a moment then; the cheerful warrior naturally falling to the side to permit Maethoriel's feet the luxury of remaining free of fallen twigs and brambles, and giving her a chance to formulate a response. She had anticipated entering into discussions with some of the guard, of course; the nature and likely duration of their endeavor making avoidance of such a thing near to impossible. And while she had looked forward to such interactions prior to their departure; she now found herself unsure of how to handle _this_ particular situation…her curiosity over her new companion's inherent cheer at odds with her confusion over Thranduil's seeming duplicity.

"Is my countenance truly so frightening, then?" Maethoriel asked finally; noting with some amusement of her own how Sidhion had flinched visibly before hurrying to make amends.

"Nay, my lady" He rushed; concern and regret rushing to replace the jovial appearance to his features as he instinctively reached to place a hand upon his companion's arm "I simply intended to suggest that you did not appear to be content in your task."

Taking a breath, Maethoriel gently drew her arm out from under his grasp; picking her way around a gnarled root in the center of their path, before returning her gaze to the man beside her.

"It is not the task that troubles me" She asserted; unsure of how much she should willingly disclose to a practical stranger as she pushed cautiously forward "It…I was simply distracted, that is all."

"Distracted by something unpleasant? Perhaps I might be of assistance."

Half-amused, and half-annoyed at the young warrior's insistence, Maethoriel settled for focusing her attention once more on the path before her; her eyes immediately seeking out the King's back as he sat upon his horse, just a few feet away. The young woman certainly could not fathom her sudden interest in him; any more than she could explain his behavior regarding her person. But she knew that if she were to spend any more time contemplating her quandary; the inquisitive elf that had taken it upon himself to address her would gain still further proof that something was amiss…and it was for that reason that she took care to shorten the pause that existed before she granted her companion an answer.

"I hardly think you could assist in this."

"Ah, so you wish to keep secrets from your allies" Sidhion chuckled; once again stepping to the side to usher the young woman through yet another narrowing in the path before he elaborated "No matter. I have always been good at guessing people's motives and intentions. Apparently something that makes a bit of an adversary of me out on the battle field."

"So you have seen war, then?" Maethoriel inquired; steering the conversation, to the best of her ability, towards a topic far from the source of her distraction as best she could. Try though she might to deny it, the prospect of hearing tales of battles, and lands that she had yet to see intrigued her…and she barely paid heed to the laugh that burst forth from Sidhion's lips at her question; her mind intent upon seeking redirection as much as was possible.

"There was a time when I thought that I might" Sidhion replied; only the faintest hints of regret seeping into his tone as he turned his attention forward and continued "But King Oropher preferred that I remain behind to guard our borders. Here, I was to remain, until he had need of me. Although now it seems as though I will never see beyond these lands…"

"We cannot know that for certain" Maethoriel said then; her heart aching in spite of herself over how clearly her new companion yearned to earn a name for himself in battle. Much the same as her own desire, he obviously felt that remaining behind was beneath his calling. A fact that served to soften the elf woman's initial misgivings as to the young man's intrusion into her thoughts as she awaited his rebuttal.

"Can we not?" He asked; his doubt becoming increasingly evident in his voice as he continued speaking "The King has just lost his father to war; and I am told he does not wish to permit any more of his people to venture beyond these lands."

"I do not believe we can begrudge him that" The elf maiden argued; startling herself with her defense of something that went against her very own desires "How could we, when if he were indifferent to our demise we would call him cold-hearted?"

"We cannot remain here, bound in the trees until the earth crumbles around us! Where does he think the enemy will come next, if not our sacred borders?"

"You speak as though the fate of our soldiers was already doomed…"

"Can you deny that it is not?"

Opening her mouth to reply, Maethoriel found herself forced to pause; the return of the small grouping of elves that had been sent ahead of them as scouts to the sides and front of their company causing the King to call them to a halt. A few silent exchanges occurred between the group and their leader before Thranduil was sending his taciturn sentry their way…a fact that rendered any further discussion of the war, and his motives impossible as the stern man approached and addressed Maethoriel herself.

"You are to accompany Calanon and Durien now" He said; his voice just as hard and unyielding as it had been upon their first meeting as he allowed a brief nod for Sidhion's benefit before finishing "See to it that you remain alert."

The elf woman was unable to avoid the indignant huff that broke through as the sentry turned on a heel and retreated the way from which he had come; her eyes narrowing as she spared Sidhion a faint farewell nod, and hurried to join her scouting party. She was quite certain, in that moment, that the surly elf's innate dislike of her stemmed more from her sex than any actual perception of offense…something that caused her to bristle in aggravation as she strode forward towards her new task. She had trained for this moment…had fought just as hard for it as the rest of them when they first dreamed of being a member of the Guard. And she was not about to permit the doubts and prejudices of one man waylay her from achieving her true potential. Even if she had to fight him tooth and nail to do so.

Finally reaching the two elves that she was to accompany into the forest surrounding them; Maethoriel fought to hide her instantaneous reaction against the sudden prickling sensation curling from between her shoulder blades to the back of her neck, the weight of an intent gaze upon her person bringing her nerves to the forefront as she barely managed a nod of assent to indicate her acceptance of Durien's suggestion that she fan out before them and leave the sides of their party to his brother and himself. It was as if every cell in her body was on high alert in that moment; indicating that something was out there…something that was a threat to both their own safety, and that of their people. But just as soon as such a feeling had come, it was gone; her intent to turn and inform the nearest bystander of what gut instinct was telling her falling dead at her feet as her eyes met the inquisitive gaze of her King.

He must have seen her freeze in place, from his position not a few feet away; his eyes flickering over her face as though trying to read her thoughts while she remained facing him for a moment, transfixed. It was impossible to tell exactly how much he had gleaned from his observations while she remained motionless under his blue gaze…but a loud cry of her name from one of the brother's behind her quickly startled her back to attentiveness; causing her to whirl around and take the steps that would lead her to her assigned patch of forest at a sprint, without as much as a passing glance at the company now behind her.

Something about the way the King looked at her had set her heart to racing; paralyzing her in her steps and rendering her incapable of fathoming just exactly what it was that had her so powerless and devoid of rational thought. But she forced herself to place all contemplation of Thranduil and his many eccentricities to the side in favor of redirecting her focus towards the task at hand; her desire to cement her usefulness to the Guard overriding the need to assess her own thoughts. She would have time to ponder Sidhion's words…the King's actions…at a later date. For now, however, her thoughts remained better suited for the duty set before her. The haunting sensation of just moments ago all but demanded her full attention.

_They were not alone…_

…

**Hello again, my lovelies! I'm pleased to present you with another new chapter! I do hope you can forgive me for it being shorter than the last one…I was caught between editing this and working on a chapter for another story I have in the works; so I hope that it's still worth the read!**

**A huge thank you to all of my reviewers and readers thus far! And I hope you continue to enjoy where this is going!**

**Until next time…**

**MJR**


	4. First Test

Creeping forward as quietly as the inherent stealth of her ancestors would allow, Maethoriel found herself inadvertently holding her breath; the fear brought about by knowing that it was entirely likely that they were not alone within the confines of the forest rendering her fully alert as she scanned the surrounding forest with keen eyes. In truth, she had long yearned for this moment; the ability to prove herself worthy of a position among the King's guard having served as a constant driving force in her daily life. But in spite of that, the young woman remained susceptible to the sharp bite of fear that plagues nearly every living thing when caught in something they know they cannot escape. Naturally, she did not _want _to acknowledge it; for to do so would risk rendering her incapable of sustaining her place in Thranduil's current company. Though it seemed that her mind had other plans; the steady thrumming of her pulse serving as ample proof that, try though she might to deny it, her fear was not going anywhere.

_It was that fear that saved her life._

Sensing the whoosh of the blade as it soared towards the back of her neck even before she could hear it; Maethoriel ducked down and rolled away from her attacker, scrambling to her feet in time to notice the curl of a leer upon his features. Black speech rolled from his tongue as he crept towards her; chilling her bones as she drew her weapon, and spurring her forward until swords met with an echoing clang. A small part of her mind wondered if that noise would be enough to draw the attention of Calanon or Durien as they scouted to the sides of their forces; but she was soon distracted from such idle musings as she forced the orc's blade away from her body with her own in a wide swipe of the arm, delivering a kick to its chest that sent it clambering backward as three more of the foul creatures approached.

This was the test of skill she had yearned for. A chance to prove herself to her King, and perhaps even the rest of the Guard as well. And yet, now that it was here, she felt panic. Tearing at the edges of her mind and threatening to paralyze her. But she had no time for that now. Not when her own life, and the security of those who followed behind rested in the balance. Steeling herself, the elf woman crouched lower to the ground as the four orcs ringed her in; heart pounding although her face never showed her fear. Sword clutched tightly in one hand, Maethoriel slowly brought the other up to latch around the pommel of a small dagger her father had given her shortly before departing for war; eyes retaining watch on the creatures surrounding her, ready for the charge.

She did not have long to wait, for almost as soon as the thought of impending attack had entered her mind, the orcs were moving as one; forcing instinct to replace well-formed strategy as the young woman snapped her dagger from its sheath and flicked it away from her. Sparing only a moment to ensure that it had, indeed, lodged itself in the neck of the orc closest to her; Maethoriel raised her sword arm above her, swinging the weapon down just in time to parry the blow of the orc at her front. Her free hand curled into a fist then, snapping back to collide with the twisted visage of the creature who had crept around behind her; and it was not long before she was whirling to her left to ram her elbow into the temple of the orc whose sword still remained locked with hers. Both creatures fell back then; harsh cries of rage and pain leaving them. But this was not to be as easy as it looked for the elf woman; she knew that. There were still three of them that she must face. The two she had struck with fist and elbow would recover soon. And she had only one weapon; her dagger remaining lodged in the neck of the fallen creature on the forest floor.

_Unless…_

Tugging an arrow out of the sheath at her back, Maethoriel reacted on pure adrenaline; driving the tip through the eye of the orc that was rushing her from the front, even as a yell reached her ears from somewhere she could not see. Yanking her arm back as the orc she had just impaled fell to the ground with a gurgle and a thud; the elf woman dodged backwards as the two remaining orcs sped towards her, the whiz of an arrow as it passed her cheek serving as evidence that her struggles had been noticed.

Help had arrived.

It was Sidhion who leapt into the clearing to aid her; bow held aloft as he met Maethoriel's gaze for a split second before returning his attention to the orc that now approached him. Ducking easily as the creature hacked a saw-toothed blade through the air; the elf butted the orc in the gut with his bow. Anything that transpired after that initial act was lost to the elf woman as the remaining orc darted towards her once again; a ragged cry of desperation leaving its lips as she managed to dodge backwards and avoid the arc of its sword. Fully back in the present, and trusting that Sidhion would eliminate the threat of his own opponent; the elf woman focused solely on the creature before her, eyes narrowing as it began circling her in hunger.

Following the orc with her eyes, Maethoriel spun slowly in mimicry of its movements; every muscle taut with anticipation of the creature's next attack. It was trying to toy with her; she could see that clearly by the gleam in his eye. But she would not be so easily fooled…

Only the faintest twitch of her hand belied her intentions in that moment; her mouth curling into a smile as the orc's eyes widened in stalled comprehension of her plan. The elf woman had darted towards the creature, feigning a head-on attack; only to opt for darting to the right at the last possible moment, a cry leaving her lips as she latched onto the trunk of a nearby sapling to give herself enough momentum to swing around until her feet carried the entire weight of her body, and collided with the chest of the orc, dropping it to the ground. Regaining her footing was simple, as expected; but what she did not expect was the impact of the orc's serrated blade with the skin of her wrist, slicing across the pale flesh just beneath her vambrace from the creature's position upon the ground. A startled hiss left her as she stumbled back, glancing down at the creature at her feet while it struggled to stand upright in its search for the breath she had knocked from its lungs; only to find itself cut down in the attempt as Maethoriel recovered, charging forward to run it through.

The orc dropped from her sword as a stone weight might from on high then; the thud its body made when connecting with the ground causing a grim smile to pass over Maethoriel's features for a moment, before her attention was turning to the elf who had assisted her as he spoke, chest heaving with his efforts.

"You are alright?"

Nodding, Maethoriel sheathed her sword; shifting her wrist so that Sidhion might not observe the line of blood trickling down her palm as she searched the ground for the orc that bore her father's dagger within its throat. As her eyes alighted upon what she so ardently searched for, she opened her mouth to reply in the affirmative; only to find her words cut short as Calanon and Durien entered the former battle ground; flanked closely by the sentry from before.

"What is this?" Durien inquired; eyeing the orcs at their feet for a moment before looking to the two responsible for their deaths "Are there more of them?"

"If there were, I suppose they might have attacked us by now" Sidhion replied; the smile he wore at having a chance to take part in battle never fading as his response earned him a raised eyebrow from Calanon, and a look of disdain from King Thranduil's sentry.

"Perhaps if you had left one alive; we might have a better chance at discerning their origins" He intoned; his gaze locked on Maethoriel even though is reply was for Sidhion's ears.

_He was baiting her_.

"We could not know if more were coming" The elf woman protested then; skin prickling at the open criticism of her actions. A small part of her knew that she should take the critique and move on. But the part of her that was so very much like her father refused; her blood thrumming with the force of her assertion as she pressed "I thought the safety of our-"

"You thought to seek glory and recognition in the eyes of our King" The sentry cut in; his disapproval of her actions all too evident in his features "He is not apt to tolerate those who only seek approval."

"I sought to _defend _him! I was under the impression that was your objective as well."

"Do not seek to teach me my duties. I know them well."

To say that Maethoriel wanted anything less than to strike the sentry for his avoidance of what both she _and _Sidhion had been trying to prevent would have been a lie, in that moment; perhaps the only thing keeping her from acting on such a desire being her fear that this may, in fact, be what the man wanted. Were she to attack him, she knew very well that she may lose her place within the Guard. And so she settled for pursing her lips together in silence; taking a step back to signal her assent just as the sound of more men approaching reached their ears.

_King Thranduil was among them_.

Startling blue eyes locked onto Maethoriel's for a moment as the King approached them; a myriad of unfamiliar meanings passing between them before he turned his attention to the sentry to speak.

"What is the meaning of this?"

"We were attacked, my King" Sidhion answered; diverting the King's attention, and earning himself a glare from the sentry before he elaborated "I came upon Maethoriel and the orcs; and gave assistance where I could."

"Do we know where they came from?" Thranduil inquired; eyes flicking to the elf woman and looking her over "Why they were here, and not in battle with the rest of their race?"

"We might have known, my King, had Maethoriel not killed the last creature herself."

Averting her gaze, the elf woman fought against the flush of embarrassment she could feel rising in her cheeks; the weight of the King's eyes upon her only worsening the sensation as she felt him stepping closer. Risking a glance up, she realized with belated surprise that he stood mere _inches _from her shorter stature; forcing her to tip her head back so that she might look upon his face. Tremors threatened to wrack her at the intensity in his expression; her fear of rebuttal and dismissal near to overwhelming her. It would have been tempting to look down towards her feet once more as she felt herself remain under his careful scrutiny…but just as she had been about to reluctantly act upon such a desire, the King was addressing her directly.

"When you killed the filth, were you in fear for your life?"

"Pardon?"

"When you took his life; was it to stop him taking yours?" Thranduil repeated; blue eyes boring into Maethoriel's bright green.

"It was" She replied; holding firm against the snort of derision that came from the sentry, and maintaining her pose as she awaited the King's assessment. Something told her it may be prudent to opt for a more demure stance; to show respect and submission. But her father's pride balked at allowing such a thing in the presence of the sentry and several of the other curious onlookers that had trickled in to observe the goings on; a fact that seemed to intrigue Thranduil rather than insult him as he looked her over one last time before turning away.

"Very well. We are to keep moving. We cannot afford delay."

Watching in stunned silence as the Elvenking made his way through the onlookers and back towards the main gathering of their forces; Maethoriel barely noticed the scathing look passed her way by the sentry before he, too, followed after his king. It was only at the gentle insistence of Sidhion's hand as it came to rest upon her shoulder that she sought to move once more; an unbidden smile of amusement coming to her lips at the elf's next words.

"I may be incorrect, my dear Maethoriel, but I do believe you have yourself an enemy amongst allies in our beloved King's sentry."

…

The grouping moved with renewed haste after the orc attack; an urgent silence befalling them as they moved onward through the fading lights of day. It was no secret that they must hasten away from their former location before making camp for the night; the risk of incurring yet another attack, should more of the foul creatures return to check on the whereabouts of their scouts far too great a thing to ignore. And, for her part, Maethoriel found herself to be all too caught up in the King's seeming defense of her actions, in the face of the sentry's blatant disapproval…disappointment stealing through her as she was not permitted to dwell on that fact for long; the call to halt and make camp reaching her ears and startling her back to some semblance of awareness.

"Come, Maethoriel" Sidhion insisted then; grabbing the young woman's wrist and causing her to wince at the abrasive feel of his thumb against her wound "I have some lembas we might-"

Stopping short at the feel of torn skin beneath his fingertips, combined with the pain that flitted across the elf woman's features as she gently tugged her wrist away from his grasp; Sidhion looked down at the offending injury as Maethoriel cradled her wrist to her chest, eyes widening as he spoke, this time with much less light-hearted chivalry in his tone.

"You are injured."

"It is nothing" Maethoriel protested; not wanting to draw attention to herself as they sought to make camp "_Really_, I am alright."

"If it is not treated, it may fester and spread. I will go seek the King's permission to consult the healer."

"No!"

"Maethoriel-"

"Please, Sidhion, if you value me as a friend, you will not call attention to this" The woman begged; stepping closer to her recent companion as she pressed him "_Please_. I will be fine."

"It is because I value your friendship that I do this, Maethoriel. I will go speak with the King about borrowing his healer."

Before she might utter a single word more to sway him in his decision, Sidhion was gone; leaving Maethoriel to stand in silence as she watched him weave in and out of the throngs of elves preparing for the night's rest. Never before had any other than her father been so insistent against her innate desire to press personal matters and injuries aside. And the young elleth found herself fighting back equal pangs of admiration for her young friend, as well as of sadness over her father's memory as she set about claiming her spot beneath the tree boughs as best she could until Sidhion returned.

After all, it seemed she had no choice but to accept his decision.

She was just finishing spreading her blanket at her feet, near Sidhion's discarded packs, when he returned to her; the healer, and to her surprise, King Thranduil himself trailing along behind. Doing her best to steel herself so that she might not do something foolish before her King, Maethoriel forced herself to heave a deep breath as Sidhion gestured for her to show the healer her wrist; her pale fingers relinquishing their hold over the wound as she reluctantly extended it for the man to see.

As the healer's gentle touch probed lightly around the edges of the wound, the elf woman sought to divert her attentions elsewhere so that she might not give evidence to any discomfort; her eyes almost immediately finding those of her King as Sidhion's voice reached her ears.

"Is this not better, Maethoriel?" He inquired; satisfaction over his actions apparent in his tone "Better than waiting until it was too late."

"I would have been _fine _Sidhion" Maethoriel asserted calmly, never once moving her gaze from that of the King in spite of the sensation that he could see right through her façade "It is simply a scratch."

"The wound is deeper than that, my lady" The healer inserted then; startling Maethoriel's attention towards himself for a moment as he reached to the pack hanging at his side and pulled out what appeared to be a healing balm and scraps of linen "It must be moistened and then bound to prevent infection."

"Do we know that it is not already infected?" Thranduil questioned; startling those in his presence with his sudden break from silence as he tore his gaze from the investigation of his injured soldier to watch the healer begin treating her injury "Orcs are known for riddling blades with poison and other foul things."

"If it had been contaminated with anything, my Lord, this young woman would already be dead."

Maethoriel did not miss the flash of abhorrence that crossed her King's expression in that moment; her eyes widening momentarily as she wet her lips with her tongue. The balm that the healer applied was unexpectedly soothing as he applied it gently, and wrapped the linens around her wrist to cover the wound; and she found herself managing a faint smile of thanks for his benefit as he continued working, King Thranduil once again breaking her from her silent musings as he spoke.

"Sidhion tells me you had all but one of the creatures at your mercy" He said; intent gaze once again riveting Maethoriel to the spot as he elaborated "He says you hardly needed him at all."

"He is too kind, my King" The elf woman replied; shooting a reprimanding glance Sidhion's way, and trying to ignore the way her cheeks burned in surprise "Had he not arrived when he did, I may not be here now."

"Somehow, I do not believe that" Thranduil countered; the faintest hints of a smile toying with the corners of his lips as he began to turn away from them to head further back into the camp, only pausing long enough to finish with what could be taken as either encouragement, or admonishment.

"Modesty does you no favors in war, Maethoriel. Doubt of one's skill can only lead to death."

…..

**Hello there! And welcome to a (very delayed) new chapter! I must admit, I sort of lost my bunnies for this a while back; but for some reason it seems they are back now. So I hope you all still have **_**some **_**form of interest in this story…(crosses fingers and prays fervently).**

**My main goal with this segment was to show Maethoriel in action, and to give her and Thranduil a bit more interaction time than they had in the last chapter. That being said, I'd like to open the floor to you as readers, to let me know if it worked out as intended. I'm always a little doubtful of my skill in capturing a battle scene; and I worry I haven't got Thranduil completely in character…so please, PLEASE, tell me what you think? I promise I won't bite!**

**As always, I want to thank each and every one of you for your patience, and (hopefully) continued interest in this story! I appreciate every single one of you!**

**Until next time…**

**MJR**


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